Copyright William Read 1998 - Send email if you like or dislike something to:
email: wrezzzad@ucsd.edu - (BUT remove the zzz in the address!)The Aimless Quest of Bungston Shag
Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10. Chapter 11. Chapter 12. Chapter 13. Chapter 14. Chapter 15. Chapter 16. Chapter 17. Chapter 18. Chapter 19. Chapter 20. Epilogue.Chapter 13
Bungston's lightning reflexes propelled him to a fighting stance before he was quite awake. Violent ape cries echoed into the room, and Bungston armed himself with a well-packed pillow. Not twenty feet from the entrance to the cushion room a pair of four-armed apes were ripping up a plant man, which in turn was reluctantly dying. An ape turned from its labors and saw Bungston. "Too close. Jerk." it breathed, pointing at the twitching vegetable heap. "Nutmeg?" Bungston gave each ape a snort of nutmeg dust and two handshakes apiece for a job well done. Since he felt alert the wizard went back to wake up the others.
It was quite a trek down to the lower reaches where the dragon lived. Irn brought all of her band of seven apes along, and occasionally other apes along the way would lope out of the darkness to join them for a while. Irn explained that the subterranean apes lived off of the plant critters and other small beasts, which in turn generally grazed the phosphorescent fungi off of the walls. "Once you get down far enough, there's a lot of water, and then you have a whole different ecosystem." Bungston nodded sagely and plucked a clump of fungus off the wall, stowing it in a pocket for emergencies.
The hand-hewn tunnels ended about a mile away from Irn's residence, and were replaced by caves of various sizes. Irn cautioned the group to keep quiet, as they were nearing the dragon's area. There was a strange smell in the air, like roadwork on a hot day. Napoleon sneezed wetly. "Bung, this doesn't smell like dragon much. Just a little."
Bungston nodded, then grabbed the mutant's furry shoulder. "Hey Nap, look! Just like home!" They were passing beneath a tremendous arch in the shape of a sideways capital J. Towering monolithic statues stood on either side, their lines obscured by stone flows and stalagmites. "Irn - this is that city you were talking about? Nap and I live in a cabana built by these same guys!"
Irn had been whispering to the agitated apes. She looked nervously toward the opening, then turned toward the rather loud wizard. "Yeah, hope you show me it someday," she whispered. "Ok, I'm not taking the apes any further. We're going to go back to the small tunnels where it probably won't follow. You guys can come back to meet us when you're done. Good luck." She turned and quickly backtracked out of the cave, her apes in tow.
Bungston looked after her, then sniffed the strange asphalt stench again. "That was quick. Ok guys, let's find us some rep-tile." The three walked under the great triangular arch and inward. Most of the caverns were natural, and the action of water had obliterated the greater part of what the prehuman builders might have added. Bungston ignored smaller side passages and forged straight ahead. After a while Napoleon stopped and complained that he was getting goop in his fur. He grabbed the wall and held up a foot for inspection, then pulled away and found that he had black sticky gunk on his hands also. "Irn can take care of that with some solvent when we get back," Bungston consoled his mutant. "She can whip up a little WD40 in no time. Hey, listen. Do you guys hear running water?"
Robigus looked concerned. "Bungston, do you not fear that we may blunder into this dragon and have it fall upon us ere we can devise a strategy? And even so, surely we are not armed to battle a beast of this ilk; my sword and your pistol will but anger it."
Bungston looked at the armored man archly. "I don't know about any butt-anger, Bob, but for one thing, we are not going to `blunder' anywhere; we are a cool, calculating, adze-procuring team. As for the dragon, I bet it's a small one, and we can do it in before it wakes up. Then we swipe the goods and run." Bungston pursed his lips. "Although, if we killed it first, we wouldn't have to run. Remember Nap, we've pulled off that trick once or twice?"
Napoleon grunted his assent. "Once. I hope this dragon is as little as that one was."
"That one wasn't all that little, and besides, big dragons are pretty scarce. And once we ace it, we could get Irn and her ape flunkies to help carry the loot." He thought some more. "Yeah Bob, you're right. You guys wait in one of these side tunnels, and I'll go see what's up. Then I'll come back and we'll devise a plan." He rubbed his hands together craftily, then greased his boots with a spray can of Pam brought along for emergencies. He gave his crewcut an energetic massage until his electrified scalp emitted a lambent glow. "Watch out for vegetables," he admonished, then moved away, a bobbing blue scalp in the darkness.
The goop on the floor was pervasive, and Bungston was glad he had greased his boots, since they would certainly have lodged in the tarry sludge. He checked his Colt.45 as he walked. One quick shot, right up the nose, and no more dragon. Or maybe in the eyeball. Bungston grimaced at that nasty thought; surprise eye wounds are no way for a self-respecting dragon slayer to do in his opponent. The nose is much better. Bungston was assessing his own excellent nose for vulnerability when he saw the dragon.
The cavern was immense. It must have been a tremendous public room of some sort in the days when it was populated, and the walls were buttressed and decorated with architecture like that of Bungston's cabana. Six massive statues marked the corners of what had been an irregularly sexagonal room, but their details were totally obscured by stone flows and a soft black coating. A river flowed along one side of the room, emptying out through a yawning vaulted hole in the wall. The cavern was illuminated by several flaming pools near the river. In the center of the room was a blackened mound, and atop this mound was the dragon.
It was curled up, with only its back visible. It was by no means a little dragon. Thick metallic scales polished by sand and stones reflected the flickering light. Spadelike claws capable of bringing down the Washington Monument were casually embedded in the pile beneath its bulk. Bungston tore his eyes away from the dragon long enough to realize that the pile was composed of tar-covered gold and riches. A sinister bubbling sound came from the far side of the dragon, sounding like a sulphur pit in Yellowstone Park. Bungston stood for a second then wheeled and galloped back up the way he had come.
"I really, really need that tactical nuke pistol. I need my Nukomatic." One shot, two tops, would vaporize most of that mother, and if Bungston didn't bring the roof down he would have it made. He knew it would be a royal pain to summon the Nukomatic from where he had left it in the cabana, but he started mumbling anyway. "SCRUB NOSE THOSE OBNOXIOUS BASS DO THUMBTIME OR I'LL KICK YOUR ASS! FIRST TIME MISTING GASPING LISPING TWICE AND BLASTED SECOND CLASS!" He was rewarded with a silver grapefruit spoon. Bungston grabbed it and stuck it to the wall with a lump of tar, to keep it out of trouble. Then he started again, adding a few dance steps for variety.
One speargun, one welder's mask, a dog shears, a 120-foot length of nylon cable, three sticks of dynamite, a pinochle deck, a box of plastic Christmas ornaments and a sombrero decorated with wax fruit later, Bungston got his Nukomatic, in a lawn bag covered with soil. It had been disassembled, apparently with a heavy instrument. The nuclear power core was gone too. Bungston carefully pulled a tuft of maroon fur free from the wreckage, staring at it in horror. The traitor!
The wizard put aside the ruined weapon and squared his rather narrow shoulders. Once he dealt with the dragon there would be a reckoning. His efforts had not been totally wasted; the dynamite might come in handy, if he played his cards right. Mentally reviewing all he knew of dragon lore, he slowly walked back to the dragon.
It seemed to be fast asleep, although the leaping light made it look as if it were moving. Long many-legged parasites snaked their way among the shining scales. Bungston wrinkled his nose at these. Maybe he wouldn't have to deal with this cooty dragon; he could just find the adze and slip out. The wizard started snooping around, looking for possible adzes in the tar-coated mess. He found a wooden haft protruding from one glop of gold and goo, but couldn't pull it free. Everything else looked about the same. Heck, the beast could be lying on the thing for all he knew. He would have to use his smooth persuasive style to convince the dragon to give up the adze. The wizard walked up to about fifteen feet and took a shot with his Colt .45 at the dragon's back to wake it up. Only his vaunted reflexes saved him from the ricochet.
The dragon stirred, and Bungston thought it might be prudent to move back a tad, to allow room for him to maneuver. He was beginning to have a plan. The dragon mumbled something, and then seemed to subside. Bungston cranked off two more shots to make sure it was awake. The bullets made a sound like thick piano wire breaking as they bounced off the armored hide; a low "spoink!" The dragon shifted some more, then suddenly its entire bulk heaved up and over and Bungston was looking at its head. The two front legs stretched forth and planted themselves on either side. Its head was like a primitive armored fish from the Devonian, covered with large metal plates and with a beaklike mouth, and the head alone was half again as tall as Bungston. The dragon did not have any obvious teeth, but rather both of its jaws were sharp. Long segmented barbs twitched and quivered at the sides of the mouth. The quadruple eyelids slowly lifted one by one, and the great pupilless eyes fixed themselves on the puny wizard. Then the dragon spoke.
Bungston didn't understand, which surprised him since in his career he had never run across a language he did not know. Complements, complements, he remembered. Spread it on thick. Latin's a good bet. "Hello, o massive and monstro dragon. Very nice scales you've got there. Bulletproof, and shiny to boot. A wonder to behold."
"Another human," bubbled the dragon thickly and in Latin. Viscous strings of hot smoking tar oozed from its mouth as it spoke. "Come down from the top to explore."
"Yeah. No - wait! I have come to feast my eyes on your succulent beauty, o huge one. Come to see with my own eyes your, your..." He scanned the dragon for something else to complement besides the scales. "Your magnificent scales of mighty mirrored metal. And... your very catfishlike whiskers. And your excellently stubby head. Truly, you are a wonderous wonder to gaze upon, a delectable monstrosity of hugeitude. I have come to marvel at your extreme hugeness, and you are marvelously huge, yes indeed." This sort of thing is what he excelled at, thought Bungston.
"You have placed three small dents in my magnificent scales," rumbled the dragon. Bungston could not detect any emotion in its burbling voice. He briefly wondered if perhaps this dragon was some sort of robot what with all the metal on it. He had seen a robot reptile in a Japanese monster movie once.
"They add, rather than detract from your beauty," cooed the wizard. "A dimpled and textured effect most appealing. It complements the breathtakingly verminous decor already in place."
The dragon snorted, releasing a cloud of brown smoke. Fortunately the cavern was well ventilated by the motion of the river, and the smoke dispersed. Bungston continued, striking various poses for visual aid. "Knowing of your fondness for rare and magical treasures and pieces of candy, I have brought as an offering for you a combination of the two, the like of which the world has rarely seen."
The dragon lifted its mass and oriented its blunted head more closely on the diminuitve wizard before it. "An offering. It has been a very long time since a creature brought me an offering of its own accord. I will look upon your offering." This short speech liberated a stream of ooze from the dragon's maw, which flowed thickly down the side of the treasure mound. Bungston slid out of the way.
"Beautiful tasty crunchy yummy candy, crafted by skilled candysmiths at my command for your consumption!", cooed the wizard enticingly, adding his best game show hostess gestures. "Do you approve, O plenty huge one?" Bungston slowly opened the box of Christmas ornaments, then stepped forward and laid the box down, leaving the plastic baubles to shimmer in the light of the burning puddles.
The dragon extended its forelegs, dug in its claws, and heaved its body scraping across the mound. It brought one opalescent eye to bear on the box. "Special, secret candy suited for no flimsy human to taste, but only for the palate of the fabulous dragon." This was very true as Bungston had hidden the sticks of dynamite under the Christmas ornaments, in the hope that the dragon's heat would set them off, blowing it up but good. Eat it, eat it, eat eat eat! Bungston mentally pleaded.
"I accept this offering," said the dragon, and lowered its jaw like a steam shovel to scoop up Christmas ornaments, box, dynamite, and the few cubic feet of tar, stone and treasure immediately beneath them. Bungston ran off to the opposite side of the cavern near a large stalagmite and dropped prostrate, making as if he were grovelling in submission before the dragon. He did not have long to grovel.
A muffled explosion shook the cavern. Bungston quickly rolled behind the stalagmite, where he was shielded from the fine spray of hot tar which he had anticipated. It was followed by a rattling rain of liberated scales hitting rock. The wizard yawned a few times to pop his ears, which had reacted to the sudden pressure change in the cavern, then after a few seconds he looked out. "Fudge on a stick."
The dragon was standing upright on its trunklike legs, its lower jaw hanging loosely. Its eyes were closed, and several barbs were missing from the corners of its mouth. Its mouth abruptly swung shut, then fell open again. Some smoke came out. Then the jaw swung shut and stayed shut. The eyelids flew open and the massive neckless head swung to bear on the wizard.
"The flavor was too sour for the palate of the majestic dragon?", Bungston quickly offered. "A few moments, and I could come back with a few more sticks. Of candy. And not so sour. Hang on just a second."
The dragon made no response except for an ominous gurgling "haaacccchh...". With a resounding "THOOP!" the dragon spat forth a smoking, viscous blob of asphalt, but Bungston had jumped back behind his stalagmite.
The monstrous beast grumbled in dissatisfaction, then trudged toward the shielding rock formation. A sideways swat with one mighty forelimb sent stalagmite fragments bounding across the cavern and into the river, leaving Bungston to confront the dragon. "How do you know if a dragon has been hiding in your refrigerator?", asked the wizard.The dragon paused to absorb this riddle. "What - refrigerator?", it rumbled.
"Because they smell so damn bad!" The dragon did not have to understand what a refrigerator was to grasp the intent of this joke, and it lunged for the wizard with a terrifying roar. Bungston arced over its blunt head with an aerial somersault, planted a foot in one great white eye, then trotted along the dragon's plated back with a noise like a steel drum band. The dragon turned around as quickly as it could. It was beginning to get irritated, a feeling it had not experienced for ages. Bungston was standing near the cave entrance, giving a spit shine to a gold basin he had pulled loose from the dragon's tarry hoard. "Nice pot. Thank you very much. I'll just borrow a few more small goodies." The wizard began to fill the basin with other odds and ends tugged free from the trasure heap. He hit the dirt with several seconds to spare as a second napalm lugey passed overhead. It was fortunate for the agile wizard that this particular dragon hacked up tidy lumps of tar instead of acid clouds or a flame blanket. It was also fortunate that the dragon telegraphed all of its moves, and Bungston had started rolling away long before the dragon bit a Volkswagon-sized lump of solid rock from the cave floor where he had been.
Now the dragon was incensed. With a lurch of its body, it catapulted the mouthful of stone at the ceiling above the goading human. As Bungston jogged out from under the falling stalagtites and debris, the dragon shut its mouth and sprayed molten tar in a horizontal fan from between its jaws. Bungston turned and accelerated, running up the the far wall. He scooted into a convenient crevice, then poked his head out to look at the dragon below. "Nyah nyah can't get me here!" He took a potshot at the dragon's right nostril with his pistol, then ducked back. Several blobs of asphalt proved him partially correct.
The dragon bellowed some words in a strange language, bunched up, then launched itself at the wizard's crevice with an earthshaking howl of fury. Yard long claws sank into the rock as if it were plasticine. "Pretty spooky," called Bungston's muffled voice. "I'm quaking just like jelly!" The dragon furiously scraped aside rocks in search of the intolerable human. Deeper and deeper it dug. "Hey, how many dragons does it take to screw in a light bulb? None - they're too dang clumsy! Haw haw haw!" The dragon could not pinpoint exactly where ahead of it the voice was coming from, so it kept digging, tunneling rapidly through the stone like a nuclear gopher. "Nope, I don't think you can get me here,"
Bungston held on tight to the dragon's tail, occasionally shouting up words of encouragement, but mostly just trying to dodge the larger chunks that flew back from the dragon's claws. They were travelling upwards at an angle, and moving at a good clip, so the wizard figured they would break out into the open air pretty soon. He wasn't sure what would happen then; maybe he could outrun the stinky critter and let the Pope deal with it. More likely it would just get tired and turn around and go back down to its lair. A long and leggy red creature moved out from under a scale and wriggled toward Bungston's perch near the end of the tail, no doubt intending to crawl in his ear. He took a breath and spat his well-chewed nutmeg at the nasty parasite, which scooted back to its hiding spot. "Hey, wormy dragon! You won't miss this little bit of gold. I promise not to spend it all in one place." The dragon bellowed and continued its efforts. Maybe Napoleon would go in and find the adze while the dragon was distracted. The wizard was at a loss about how to signal his pet mutant, though. He was also very muddy; the stones they were moving through were progressively wetter and wetter, and the dragon was kicking back gouts of mud and small stones instead of the sedimentary shrapnel it had been dislodging earlier.
Then Bungston realized what was going to happen. He let go of the tail and headed back down the tunnel as fast as he could move. His small stature allowed him to stand upright, but the tunnel floor was slick and loose, and he could not move fast. A muddy rivulet began to course down the incline, and the stream rapidly increased in size. "Not going to make it," panted Bungston. "HOLY GEYSER BOWLER TIRES FIRE TO MEET AND SWEET BETWEEN BE FOOT OF FLEET TO ROLLER CAIRO! WHAOH! MOGULMAN!" A dumptruck tire appeared next to him; he quickly grabbed it before it could roll away. The wet wizard crammed his petite frame inside the tire and pushed off, water and mud splashing around the sides. It was Bungston's least favorite kind of ride: pitch black, bumpy, fast, and in tight circles, plus he had no Human Cannonball Helmet handy to counter the torque. He was, however, thankful for the centrifugal force that he imagined was keeping him tightly wedged in the tire.
Wizard and wheel shot like a bullet out from the wall of the dragon's cavern. The tire compressed to an oval shape on impact, then sprung back and bounced into the air. This continued for several bounces until the tire was slowed by the sticky tar on the cave floor, and then it tipped over on its side. Bungston extricated himself, cradled his protesting guts with both hands, and began to list across the cavern. Furry paws grabbed his head. "Bung! We thought it ate you!"
Robigus leaned in close and peered at Bungston's face. "Are you hurt, Bungston? You do not look well."
Bungston pointed frantically toward the mouth of the newly excavated tunnel, from which an ominous rumble and a frothing brown spray emanated. "We gotta run. Hurry!" He promptly pitched over on his side and flopped around trying to regain his feet. Napoleon easily hefted the wobbling wizard into a fireman's carry and trucked across the treasure mound toward the entrance. Robigus followed, drawing his sword and scowling around in fierce confusion.
Just before the threesome reached the entrance, there was a resounding explosion from the dragon tunnel, and the muddy stream became a geyser. Like a rocketing champagne cork, the dragon was carried helplessly tailfirst along at the front of the watery blast. Its great scaled body caromed off the cavern floor and landed in the subterranean river. Still propelled by the torrent, the dragon tumbled through the vaulted waterway and disappeared. As they watched, a wall of water surged at them from the opposite side of the cavern.
Fortunately, the intrepid trio made it far enough up the passage that when the wave hit, it merely swept them uphill at high speed instead of washing them down the river as it had the dragon. The biggest job was navigating the turns and avoiding the side passages; it would not do to wind up submerged in a dead-end tunnel. Napoleon held the light between his teeth to guide the way, and Robigus in his armor made a decent anchor to steady the mutant and magician. The three encountered few problems. Only a few minutes after they had first been caught in the surge, their forward progress stopped and the water began to slowly recede. Napoleon shook himself to dry his fur, then lifted up Bungston to examine him once more. "Bung, we heard this boom, then the dragon roaring up a storm. You said you were going to come back and tell us the plan and you never did!"
"We feared you had stumbled upon the dragon unawares," admonished Robigus.
"That dragon was huge!" Napoleon shook his head. "Way, way bigger than that Korean carp dragon you shot in the nose. You are so lucky!"
"Luck? I merely used my superior cunning and wisdom and tricked the stupid beast into a trap. A simple scheme devised on the spot. Shrewd, yes. Luck -" Bungston suddenly remembered his gripe with Napoleon. He quit talking and slowly walked around to face the big soggy mutant. "But it would have been a lot easier if I'd had certain... equipment. Do you know what I mean?"
Robigus sighed. "It is even as I said; our weapons are well-suited for most uses, but not against such a titan! It was enormous!"
"I've seen bigger," said Bungston. "But Napoleon, maybe you know the equipment I'm talking about." He made with a meaningful monobrow.
Napoleon obviously had no idea what equipment Bungston was talking about, so the wizard decided to be more explicit. "Like my Nukomatic. Like my tactical nuke pistol that could have turned that dragon's butt into pi-mesons before it even woke up. Like that sort of equipment."
Napoleon tried to feign ignorance. "But Bungston," he whimpered, "you said you forgot the Nukomatic. You said you left it in the cabana when we were fighting the shoggoth. Remember?" Like all canines, Napoleon was a terrible bluffer. Bungston tapped his foot and looked stern, and the shaggy mutant cracked in a few seconds. He fell to the floor and grabbed Bungston's legs, wailing and howling. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I busted it, but I was afraid you would blow us all up this time, and crabs chewed off the grip anyway, and I didn't know we would have to fight with shoggoths and dragons or I would never have done it, and I think I can fix it, I know right where it is, and it's in a bag so it's safe..."
"Not any more its not. I summoned it up, and now its washed away into little bits. What do you mean I'd blow us all up? I can handle that thing."
Napoleon let go of Bungston's legs, leaving a thin layer of shed wet maroon fur clinging to them. He stood up, hanging his soggy spike-tufted head in penitence. "Whenever you take the Nukomatic adventuring, you shoot everything with it. You kill bugs with it. You blow open doors sometimes. It's pretty scary. I was afraid you might accidentally blow up a building and it would fall on us, or make us radioactive or something. We're both probably radioactive from it anyway."
"What are you worried about? You're already a mutant." Bungston had to confess to himself that the mutant St. Bernard's worries about collapsing a building might have some validity; there had been close calls in that department before. Plus, Napoleon was probably still freaked out by the volcano Bungston had once caused in Iceland with a bit of errant nuclear fire.
Napoleon thought for a second, then continued his growly whine. "It's a lot more fun going on quests and stuff with you when you don't have the Nukomatic. You do plenty of magic, and come up with cool solutions to problems. Lots more elegant."
Bungston nodded stoically. "Yes, I can be elegant when I put my mind to it."
"You're more tricky without it," rumbled Napoleon, sensing approval. "Like the way you conned the dragon just now. And... and the way you got that shoggoth tied up in knots."
Bungston smirked in satisfaction and patted Napoleon on a shaggy shoulder. "Yeah, that was pretty clever." The short magician was puffed up with pride, and he strutted around chuckling at how he had tricked dragon and shoggoth. "Well, maybe getting rid of the nuke pistol was a good move after all, Nap. That old thing just crimped my style." Bungston turned and noticed that the water had disappeared from their region of the tunnels. "Guys, let's go get Irn. Once all this water drains out through the river, we can go over that treasure heap with a fine toothed comb. And I think Irn might even have a fine toothed comb. I feel success within our grasp." The wizard's enthusiasm was contagious, and the three began wending their way back to Irn's caves.
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